


A Team Free Will Thanksgiving

by darkforetold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the happiest Thanksgivings Dean can remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Team Free Will Thanksgiving

 

_Goddammit. Where is it?_

Dean searched the grocery bags on the counter in Bobby’s kitchen. Amid the cans, boxes and random vegetables, it was nowhere to be found. He had searched two or three times just to make sure. It had to be here somewhere, right? Dean turned away from the counter and marched over to the fridge. The cold blasted his face when he opened up the freezer and his frantic search turned up no leads. Fuck. The fridge itself was also a no-go. Surely, Sam hadn’t—

“Sam..” Dean called out. “Where’s the pie?”

From the library, he heard Sam say, “Shit..”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

His huge sasquatch of a brother appeared in the archway between the kitchen and the library. He looked sheepish. Like he had… “I—uh.. I forgot it.”

Dean glared at him, mouth hanging open. “You.. _what_?”

“Sorry, man.”

“You forgot the most important thing about Thanksgiving and all you can say is ‘sorry’!”

“Yeah.. sorry.” Sam returned with a frown.

“You’re killin’ me, man. Killin’ me!”

“Pretty sure you’ll live, Dean.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure _you’re_ gonna.” Dean hissed. “Wait..” He shot an accusatory finger at him. “Is this for the hair removal shit I put in your shampoo that one time?"

"No, but now that I think about it.. yes." Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

Dean gasped. "You _soulless_ son of a bitch. This is ten times worse than that!"

"Oh my God. You are so dramatic, dude." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Thanksgiving is all about the _pie_!" Dean huffed.

Sam stared at him. “Are you… pouting?"

"No." Dean tucked his protruding bottom lip under his teeth. Yeah, he was pouting.

“Are you two ladies done with your bickerin’? There’s turkey to be eaten!” came Bobby’s holler from the library.

Dean wagged that finger at him again. “You owe me big time.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dean stomped his way into the library, but not before slugging Sam in the shoulder.

“Ow!”

"You two are nothin' but a buncha kids." Bobby gripped.

"Yeah, okay, Dad." Dean said flippantly while taking his seat at the table with a flop.

"I ain't your daddy. But if I were, I'd'a beat some sense into you a long time ago."

"Wouldn’t help, Bobby—"

"Shut up, Sam."

Sam chuckled and took his seat at the table they had moved into the library just for this occasion. Bobby was busy cutting the turkey. In front of them, the table was filled with all sorts of food; from stuffing to corn and everything in between. To Dean, the feast just didn’t look right without pie. Stupid Sam. Dean offered his brother a glare. Sam didn’t hesitate in sticking out his tongue at him. Admitting temporary defeat, Dean switched his sights to a new victim.

“Your cooking gonna kill us, old man?”

“I didn’t see you offerin’ t’help, you ungrateful bastard.” Bobby grumbled, wrestling with a turkey leg.

Dean snickered.

So this was their Thanksgiving; some peace and quiet with a side of family bickering. And after all the shit they had been through, it was the least that they deserved.

Once Bobby sat down, Dean wasted no time in raising his fork and spearing the closest chunk of turkey. He had it halfway to his mouth when Sam cleared his throat.

“What about Cas?”

Dean would never get used to the way any mention of Cas made his stomach flip-flop. Or, when the angel was nearby, the way his heart beat just a little bit faster. Each time Dean looked into those blue eyes or when they accidentally touched—Dean swallowed hard and set down his fork.

“Yeah Cas..” He mumbled before closing his eyes in prayer. “Cas. Uh—you’re probably busy with Heaven stuff. But..” This was stupid. Angels didn’t eat. “Get your feathery ass down here so we can eat, okay, man? I’m starving.”

Dean opened one eye and expected Cas to be there. He wasn’t. After another second of no angel, Dean shrugged and said, “He’s probably busy,” before picking up the fork again. His mouth was watering and hanging open when the sound of wings filled the small library. Dean’s heart sped up.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Sam said cheerfully.

“Cas,” Bobby nodded.

“Take a seat, Cas. Eat with us.” Dean said, looking at him.

“It’s not necessary for angels to—“

Dean thought he might protest and had prepared for this. Without a word, Dean grabbed the white fast food bag from the middle of the table and set it down in front of the angel. As if he were compelled to by the power of the hamburger, Cas sat down and stared at it.

Dean grinned. “Okay, food time..”

He was _so close_ to tasting that turkey before Bobby opened his mouth.

“Say grace, boy.”

“What?” Dean gawked.

“It’s customary to voice appreciation during—“

Dean cut Cas off and looked at him. “How do _you_ know?”

“Cas and Bobby are right. We have a lot to be thankful for, Dean.” Sam offered helpfully.

His stomach growled in dismay. With a defeated sigh, Dean grumbled, “Fine,” before closing his eyes again. “Dear.. Cas’ Dad—er, God or whatever. Thanks for my pain in the ass little brother… even though he _totally_ forgot my damn pie. _Again_.” Dean kicked Sam under the table.

“Ow!”

“For uh—the old codger, may he not fall over dead anytime soon. Thanks for the grub.. hopefully it won’t give us food poisoning, or worse, kill us—“

“You keep it up, boy. See what happens t’you.“ Bobby grumbled.

Dean grinned and continued. “Thanks for an angel who isn’t a dick and.. oh. Porn. And for that bartender back in Tulsa with the nice—“

“Dean,” Sam said sharply.

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh.. amen. I guess?”

Dean opened his eyes and went for that fork again. The sound of wings marked Cas’ disappearance. Dean looked at Bobby and Sam for explanation and couldn’t deny the pang of worry in his gut. “.. was it something I said?” Dean shrugged. Cas probably had something important to do. “Friggin’ angels.”

As quickly as he had left, Cas returned, setting a white box on the table. It smelled.. heavenly and before Dean could register it—

“Pie,” Cas announced.

Dean’s eyes flew open wide and his stomach did another one of those flip-flop things. Quickly, he pulled the box closer and flipped opened the lid to stick a finger inside the pie. It was warm.. and _real_. He couldn’t stop himself from sucking on his fingertip, nearly falling over with how perfect the filling tasted.

“Is this.. _apple_?” Dean looked at the angel in awe.

“Yes. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

Dean didn’t even know what he was doing before he did it. He was so goddamn happy over _pie_ that he jumped up from his seat and grabbed ahold of Cas, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips were warm and soft, just like he had imagined them. And the startled noise that Cas made was even sweeter than the apple pie’s filling. When Dean broke contact and stepped back, Cas just stood there and stared.

“Awkward..” Dean whispered sheepishly.

Dean didn’t even have time to think or spare an apology before Cas grabbed him. Their second kiss was so deep, so.. _passionate_ , that Dean almost lost the strength in his legs. Cas cupped his face and pulled him in even closer. The combined warmth and the hot, wet slip and slide of their tongues—nothing else in the world existed. Not even pie. When they finally separated, Dean stepped back on unsure feet, bracing himself against the chair. Cas stood back with the tiniest smile on his face.

Dean arched a brow. “The pizza man?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. “Thought so.”

When Dean finally looked at the other two, Sam had his chin in his hands, eyes all starry. Like he was watching the best fucking chick flick he had ever seen. Even Bobby was unfazed.

“’Bout time you two shacked up.” Bobby said. The old bastard even had a smile on his face.

“What took you guys so long?” Sam asked dreamily.

Dean’s skin flushed hot and he could only bet it was as red as the Impala’s tail lights. With a grunt, he sat back in his seat and picked up that goddamn fork again. “Can we eat now?”

They all dove in and started eating. Beside him, Cas munched on his hamburger with a huge smile on his face. “These make me very happy.”

Dean smiled. “I know.”

It was the best Thanksgiving he could remember. They were all here; Sam, Bobby and Cas. All under Bobby’s roof with the Impala in the drive way. Dean didn’t need anything else.

“Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.”


End file.
